


Stormy

by DustOnBothSides



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Ben Solo is Well Meaning, Bottom Armitage Hux, But a Armitage Hux Will Not Be Treated Like This, Grumpy Armitage Hux, Idiots in Love, Kylux Positivity Week, M/M, Making Love, Or Will He?, Soft Ben Solo, Softness, Storm - Freeform, Top Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:08:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22536007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustOnBothSides/pseuds/DustOnBothSides
Summary: Sometimes Ben doesn't quite think things through, like that one time when he kidnapped Armitage for a much-needed vacation by the sea. As a result, he has to deal with a grumpy redhead, but he's determined to make their time special.  But wait. Are thosecloudson the horizon?Written for the Kylux Positivity Week event.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 10
Kudos: 113
Collections: Kylux Positivity Week 2020





	Stormy

**Author's Note:**

> Fic name shamelessly stolen from a song of the same name by the great Scott Walker.

Ben had no doubts that this was the correct decision. Nope, none whatsoever. In spite of the fact that the amount of words Armitage had said ever since they set off could be counted on the fingers of two hands – and they’ve left the city almost ten hours ago. He was either asleep or reading some cheap paperback he had picked haphazardly at the station. He refused to take his jacket off, and every time Ben tried to tell him how good a time they were going to have by the ocean, his assurances hit a wall of “ _hmm_ ”s and “ _right_ ”s at best. Unfortunately enough, Armitage was a master of ellipses. His poignant silence shot down every attempt to start a conversation. As if he was thoroughly determined _not_ to enjoy their first shared vacations.

Granted, Ben probably shouldn’t’ve planned it all in secret and dragged Armitage out of his bed at half four in the morning, but then again, that man was dead-set on spending every week-day at the office from dawn till dusk and would most likely continue to do so until he was dead; which, worryingly enough, was a possibility Ben couldn’t _quite_ exclude. 

Armitage was too thin and pale. He caught every cough which blew through the office way too easily and refused to take even a single day off. No sick days, no vacations, too much overtime, too many skipped meals. There was always some deadline to meet, some last bugs to sort out, some antsy client to placate. Whenever he accepted Ben’s offer of a massage, which wasn’t nearly as often as Ben would’ve liked, he was so stiff, it felt like trying to knead life into a cubist statue. 

Ben has met Armitage five years ago. One year ago they’ve entered a more intimate relationship (following four years of bitter hate), and eight months after that they’ve moved together into a new apartment. Ben had naively thought it would be easier to care of Armitage then, but that man was just _so_ stubborn…

He glanced over to him. On purpose or by chance, his ginger boyfriend caught his look – and held it. With a perfectly unreadable expression in his face. His eyes seemed like two glaciers. Heavy, distant, and freezing cold. 

Ben smiled even though his back was starting to sweat. “I’m sure that-“

And in that moment Armitage turned his attention back to the book. 

Ben’s mouth snapped shut and his smile didn’t speak of cheer as much as it did of rictus. 

_So stubborn._

They’ve reached their destination after another gruelling hour and half. Ben hailed a taxi, and the sleek black car dropped them off in front of a rather narrow entrance, the last of many identical ones set into a long terrace house with a handsome stucco façade. On one side of the road there was this row of interconnected buildings while on the other there was nothing but the vast, endless ocean, its waves lapping at the smooth white stones of a sea wall dotted with countless perching cormorants. 

Armitage stepped out of the car and gave the waves, the cormorants, and a flock of terns drifting above them all a perfectly blank look. His hand unwittingly rested on his right hip, where his laptop bag would usually sit. Its absence summoned a small scowl, but it was too short for comfort. Ben’s heart sank. He would’ve much preferred for Armitage to get mad at him and call him an irresponsible, arrogant buffoon who’s so full of himself it hurts. This silence was disheartening. And he knew Armitage knew. 

Without sparing the charming landscape another look, the redhead went up the few stairs whilst carrying nothing but a small backpack with his personal belongings and that damn paperback Ben grew to hate by then, leaving him to carry both huge suitcases. And he didn’t even have the decency to stop and look at how Ben’s muscles bulged as he hauled the luggage up to the reception. 

Ben wanted to cry. 

Still, he told himself he would remain positive. 

Their apartment was nothing short of gorgeous - it was on the third and topmost floor, and its windows faced the ocean. The floors were honest hardwood waxed to perfection, every room teemed with potted plants which gave the air a hint of verdant freshness, and the bathroom included a tub big enough for two.

He glanced at Armitage to gauge his reaction, but the redhead was already making a beeline for the shower. 

“Should I join you?” Ben asked, following. 

“No. You just start unpacking.” 

“Right. Okay. Good.” he smiled ruefully, realising he might’ve made Armitage angrier than expected. “If we’re quick enough, we can still get a late lunch.”

“Go without me. I’m exhausted; and my head hurts rather badly. I’ll just go and take a nap.”

“Sure. I’ll just… go and unpack then.”

“Close the door behind you, please. It’s cold.”

Ben did, and once he found himself alone in the bedroom, he felt the urge to kick something or hit the wall with his fist. But no. No, he could do this. He could make it work. Armitage was just crabby because of the long journey. 

Deciding to give his lover some space, Ben went for a walk while his significant other cocooned himself in the duvet. 

He strolled through the small town, bought a map, checked the opening times of museums and the local gallery, managed to find an elegant little antique book store, and even a neat hardware store his grumpy partner would most certainly love. Even though Armitage did all of his designing on several computers nowadays, he had these little projects he’d do in his spare time. Little clockworks, models of spaceships assembled out of various bits and pieces, that sort of stuff. 

He also visited the nearby beach… and couldn’t help but be rather worried about the dark clouds on the horizon. Surely they wouldn’t bring rain. Surely fate wasn’t evil enough to punish him as well. Ben crossed his fingers and picked up a little shell. Perhaps he’d make it into a nice little present for Armitage. 

Trying not to worry too much, he then returned back to the hotel.

It was already late by the time Armitage got out of the bed. Eyes clouded with the last remnants of sleep, hair endearingly tousled, he muttered something unintelligible and went to wash his face. In the meanwhile, Ben ordered dinner for the both of them and had it brought up to their room. A hearty beef stew with baked potatoes for him and a light fish dish with mustard sauce accompanied by a nice bottle of Sauvignon Blanc for Armitage.

He cracked the window open. The wind was strong and crisp. It brought the scent of water, but that must’ve been the ocean. Right? 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make this work.” He said when they got to their desserts. 

“Right.” Armitage answered curtly. At least he wasn’t silent. 

“We’ll both enjoy this. I promise.”

“Okay.”

“You know me. I’m a man who keeps his promises.”

“…”

_So stubborn!_

At the crack of dawn, Ben jumped out of his bed and immediately looked out of the window, his heart full of hopes and expectations. 

The ashen sky spilled a dense drizzle all over the shoreline. And the wind didn’t calm down at all. If anything, it seemed to have picked up. Ben wanted to cry. 

It was still way too early for Armitage, so he crept out of the bedroom with a bundle of clothes and got dressed in the living room. Tracksuit, headband, a light windbreaker jacket, and backpack for some odds and ends he wanted to buy.

He jogged up the mostly-empty quay towards the westernmost shoulder of the peninsula, where a squat, white-washed lighthouse stood watch above the sharp black cliffs, and he kept telling himself _it’s not too bad, it’s not too bad, it’s getting better - I’m sure of it_ , as a part of him cursed itself for not checking the weather forecast. 

By the time he reached the stores, his hair was matted with dampness and a fine film of tiny little droplets covered his windbreaker. It would’ve looked rather nice, if it wasn’t for the fact that his plans to make this vacation special for Armitage started to look… _jeopardized._

Before he returned to the hotel, he made a short stop at the nearest general store, and besides the chocolates for himself and packs of Armitage’s beloved strawberry milk he also grabbed two raincoats of the bright yellow kind. And a pair of matching hats. The shopkeeper, a young girl in her late teens, gave him and odd look followed by a strained smile, and told him what a good choice those raincoats were. He forced a smile in return. He forced too many smiles as of late. 

When he returned back to his apartment, he was pretty soaked and his running shoes squelched with every step. He hoped Armitage was still asleep, but it started to become clear that the heavens had it in for him. Armitage was sitting on a chair, nursing a cup of espresso. He looked Ben up and down, and pointedly followed a trail of wet footprints left on the carpet. Then he turned his gaze up at Ben and used his ellipses for a devastating blow. 

“I’m sure it’ll pass.” Ben tried to reassure the both of them. 

Armitage pressed his lips together and nodded twice. “Coastal weather is capricious.” 

“I got us raincoats, just to be on the safe side.”

“Smart thinking.” Armitage remarked, his voice so flat Ben couldn’t tell whether it was a praise or a jab. 

It were these raincoats what they wore when they ventured out for lunch few hours later, and while they sat in the conservatory of one of the restaurants Ben had picked the day before, the rain turned into a downpour and the ash of the sky into lead. At least Armitage’s face regained some colour. His appetite also returned, but he was still unnervingly quiet. 

As the noon passed and teatime approached, Ben started to worry anew. Armitage’s silence was different than the grumpy one from before. It was somehow deeper, more distant. At first glance he seemed to observe the sky, the wetly glistening streets and people rushing down them, but there was a strange, wistful languor in his eyes Ben couldn’t remember seeing before. Not even reading Armitage’s body-language provided him with any clues about what was going on. 

Worry started to gnaw at Ben, deeper than ever before. 

If Armitage was becoming this distant, perhaps it meant… what if he would…?

_No. I won’t let this happen. Unless… unless he wills it…_

He realised Armitage was looking at him. He wanted to smile, but his face refused to cooperate, and so he pretended to be enthralled by the chocolate and chilli sorbet in front of him even as his ears turned tell-tale red. 

After they finished their lunch, he weakly suggested a walk on the beach. After all, it stopped raining few minutes before. Perhaps the weather finally decided to show some mercy. A walk with Armitage was exactly what he needed. Anything but returning back to the hotel and sit there in silence, two people in one apartment.

To his relief Armitage agreed, however as they entered the desolate beach some two kilometres south from the hotel, he saw how terribly wrong he was. 

The sky above the ocean was a mass of purple and grey of almost apocalyptic proportions, and on the not-so-distant horizon he could see not one but _two_ gigantic towers with the appearance of unearthly tornadoes. Supercells. Supercells the size he had never seen. He glanced at Armitage, but his beloved paid more attention to the shells littering the strand. 

They didn’t manage to make it back before the rain. It arrived within moments, and the accompanying wind was so strong, they were completely drenched by the time they reached their hotel even though they both wore their yellow coats and hats. 

Back in their apartment, Ben watched the storm approach, and as he listened to the sound of Armitage showering, he admitted defeat. 

He messed up.

The radio warned people to stay indoors. Airports were closed and trains delayed. He effectively got the two of them stranded. Why couldn’t he _just once_ think something properly through? It would be no wonder if Armitage would decide to break up with him there and then.

His beautiful, redheaded lover left the bathroom, sat down on the bed in front of the oversized window and covered himself with a woollen blanket. Ben sighed and went to the kitchenette, where he made two cups of hot chocolate spiced up with some brandy. Returning to the bedroom, he handed one mug to Armitage. As he did, the first flash of lightning tore through the sky, followed by a deafening peal of thunder. Lights in the room flickered. 

“I’m sorry.” He said with resignation. Armitage looked up at him, his eyes calm and serious. “This was a stupid idea. I should’ve asked you first. I didn’t even check the forecast, because I’m an idiot. Now you got wet because of me, and we probably won’t be able to leave for a while. I… I’m really sorry. I just wanted you to relax. I never wanted… _this_. And also-“

He was interrupted by a hand grabbing his sleeve. 

Armitage placed his hot chocolate on the nightstand, pulled Ben next to him and put his head on Ben’s shoulder. He smelled of grapefruit with a hint of myrrh, and his skin radiated that distinctive, post-shower warmth. 

“Shh.” He said. “I’m watching.”

His voice was soft and gentle. 

“Watching? The storm?”

“Yes. I love storms. Stormy, rainy weather. It’s the best.”

“But you… we got all wet; and we can’t go anywhere, and-“

Armitage put his fingers on Ben’s lips. They were soft and slightly pruned. 

“I always loved this kind of weather. You know what my family situation was, right? But no matter how bad things got, whenever it rained it felt like everything would eventually turn out fine. It felt like I was hidden under a blanket. It felt like I could go wherever I wanted and do whatever I pleased and no one would chide or hit me. I hate the sun. It makes everything too clear, every fault too visible. The rain is gentle. Clouds are like a painting. This kind of weather makes _everything_ look... safe.”

“Why have you never said anything?”

Armitage shrugged. “Whenever you tell people you prefer the rain, everyone looks at you like you’re some kind of a weirdo.”

“I… I thought you were mad at me. Really mad.” Ben admitted in a small voice. 

“I had a pretty bad headache. And you _did_ drag me all this way without discussing it with me first. But I don’t really mind that much – well, not anymore. After all, what else should I expect from an arrogant buffoon like you, you thick log of a man?” the redhead explained lovingly. 

“Are you calling me _a log_?” Ben mock-glowered at Armitage, who replied with a smirk flashed from above his hot chocolate before taking a sip and suppressing a cough. 

“Hmm… has a kick…” he remarked with a strained voice as tears sprung into his eyes. 

“Figured we need something to warm us up.”

“ _You_ need something to warm you up. I already have a heater.” Armitage corrected him.

He lifted a corner of the blanket for Ben to get in and pressed himself close to his beloved’s muscular body. Ben wrapped an arm around those thin shoulders, and as he sipped from his mug, his heart felt so full he was afraid it would burst. 

The storm raged on and they had front seats to the spectacle. Spider-webs of lightning lit the sky up in progressively shorter intervals, emphasising the whorls of ragged storm-clouds, and the gale howled like a living creature. The wind whipped the water up, only to shatter it, only to build it up again, so even the third floor windows were soon awash with as much sea spray as rainwater. 

Ben felt Armitage relax. So much, in fact, he thought his lover fell asleep. After all, the half-light that they had was quickly disappearing, and, besides, Armitage’s headaches often left him worn-out even throughout the next day. He leaned towards the nightstand to put his empty mug next to the one already there, but when he wanted to sit up again, Armitage toppled over and pulled Ben on top of him. 

Ben quickly put his hand forward to stop himself from crushing the thinner man. 

“Whoa there. Almost flattened you.” 

“Squashed by a log… though in this case, it wouldn’t be a bad way to go.” Armitage replied with a certain gleam in his eyes. 

Ben recognised it and his cheeks burned as heat unrelated to the spiked chocolate spread out from his belly.

“There you go with that _log_ again. Seems to me like you really _do_ want to get squashed.” He chided Armitage gently and grabbed his wrists. It only took Ben’s left hand to pin both of them to the pillow. His hold was soft yet relentless.

“A log _and_ a lug.” Armitage whispered and arched his back. His mouth brushed against Ben’s and the tip of his tongue tasted chocolate on Ben’s lower lip. 

Ben let himself collapse onto Armitage and smothered the soft _oof_ in a long, long kiss. Armitage struggled under him, but for the very opposite of escape. Ben felt his passion, and as volleys of rain thundered against the window panes, he lifted his weight, but only enough to slide his hand under Armitage’s shirt. He sought out the gentle, elegant curve of his lower back and caressed its silky skin. 

“Please…” Armitage whispered, his voice husky. 

“ _Please_ what?” Ben asked and ran his hand up his lover’s side.

Armitage let out a soft moan and tried to get one of Ben’s thick thighs between his own for some friction. Ben, however, refused to let him. He pinned both of those lean legs to the mattress and sat up, one hand still restraining the wrists. Armitage was completely helpless now, his body surrendered to his lover’s every whim. 

Even after a year Ben still couldn’t believe that this cold, icy exterior and dry, no-nonsense demeanour hid such heat, such sweetness. It was a treasure, and Ben revelled in the fact that he was the only one allowed to draw pleasure from it, the only one to imbibe the sweet nectar and honey, and feel the silk and velvet. 

He put his free hand onto one of Armie’s features he loved the most – his belly. He gently squeezed the slight softness he found there and laid his hand flat on top of it, rubbing circles into the warm, sweat-damp skin. Armitage strained against his hold again, panting and trying to suppress his moans.

“Please.” He repeated, and Ben kissed the word off his lips. 

“What do you need, honey?”

“…more.”

“More of what.”

_“You.”_ Armitage breathed out and his reddened, kiss-plumped lips found Ben’s ear. 

As soon as that tongue, bereft of its usual sharpness yet still merciless as ever, began to dance over the soft, fleshy lobe, Ben shuddered and pressed his face against the juncture of Armitage’s neck. Then _his_ patience ran out as well. He reared and descended upon his lover like the storm upon the sea. He tore Armitage’s shirt open, pulled down his pants along with the underwear, and sucked a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses up that wonderful belly and across the breastbone until he found a small pink nipple. Armitage’s hands flew into his hair and Ben brought their manhoods together, pleasuring them with slow, unhurried strokes. 

Once he felt the first beads of precum bedew the member proudly jutting out of its ginger nest, he stopped all ministrations and without giving him the time to breathe, he flipped Armitage onto his belly, poured a generous amount of slick between the two luscious globes he showered with kisses and began to thumb the furled, rosy entrance open. Soon he lined himself up, pushed in and bottomed out with one slow, merciless thrust. Armitage welcomed that intrusion with a needy, keening moan that was drowned out by another thunder. He fully submitted himself to Ben and the pleasure he gave, and this knowledge spurred his dark-haired lover on. He manhandled Armitage so his front was pressed into the mattress by the palm planted between his shoulder-blades while his rear was up on display, meeting Ben’s groin with obscenely wet slaps. 

Ben set a pace neither of them could keep for long, and soon he wrapped his arm around Armitage’s front and pulled him up for an awkward kiss as he, sheathed up to the hilt, poured every last drop of his seed into Armitage’s tight, spasming passage. 

One lazy clean-up later, the both of them lay, forehead to forehead, feet tangled, in the bed which smelled of their sweat and sex.

Armitage gave Ben a thoroughly satisfied smile.

“Hm… should I consider his our pre-honeym-“

He didn’t finish the sentence. Realising what he just said, his mouth clamped shut and his face turned beet-red.

Ben felt like his heart skipped at least ten beats. His own cheeks gained the colour of freshly-baked bricks. He smiled and lifted Armitage’s chin up so their eyes could meet. 

“Yes. Yes, you can consider it that. Our dress rehearsal. Or rather – _undress_ rehearsal.” He said and a chuckle rumbled in his chest.

Armitage tried to hide his face, but try as he might, he couldn’t conceal how _pleased_ he was. And so he at least scowled. 

“Hmpf. You haven’t even asked.”

“What if you’d turn me down? After all, I’m just a luggy log. Or loggy lug. And you like sophistication.”

“But what I like even more than sophistication is _this_. The rain, the ocean, the feeling of being under a blanket… I’ve missed it for so long, I almost forgot about it. You’ve reminded me. And the food was tasty, and the chocolate too. And your voice sounds so glorious when you growl my name in the storm…” he sighed with pleasure and gave Ben a half-lidded smile. 

Ben was so caught up in the moment, in how radiant Armitage looked, that he forgot to breathe. 

And Armie’s soft smile faded into a grimace. 

“Now’s the time to ask, you irresponsible buffoon.”

“-oh. Right. Will you then? Marry me, that is?”

Armitage’s blush went few shades darker. “…yes. Fine. After all, you’ve spoiled me for anyone else, so you better take responsibility.” He grumbled. 

Ben beamed and pulled him close, putting his face on that narrow chest, kissing the skin right above the heart. “This is not _‘till death do us apart’_. This is forever.”

“Yeah, right. Give it a week, and we’ll be at each-other’s throats.”

“And it’ll be the sweetest violence ever.”

_“Right.”_ They said in unison. 

There was a beat, and then the both of them burst into a quiet laugh, while outside the storm continued to rage and rains slowly flooded the land. 

The end

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments will be greatly appreciated.


End file.
